


A Valuable Skill

by retronxnt



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Cigarettes, Cussing, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gen, Light-Hearted, M/M, Needles, Platonic Romance, Sewing, Smoking, broken glass, drinking mention, explosive mention, name headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retronxnt/pseuds/retronxnt
Summary: "Scout had been doing this for at least a couple months. Sometimes he'd get snagged on something on "accident", sometimes he'd look for clothes old enough that they were already torn, and recently he was just doing it deliberately. It became a bit of an obsession, if he was being honest with himself, but he didn't care. Every time he got to see Sniper, his questionable crush grew more into an overwhelming adoration."A very light read, Sniper/Scout fanfic. Could be interpreted as not explicitly romantic.Trigger warnings: some cussing, sewing needles, cigarettes and smoking, mention of broken glass, mention of drinking, mention of explosives.Notable mentioned headcanons: Sniper's given first name is Dick.
Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80





	A Valuable Skill

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thanks for stopping by! I haven't written much in several months, and this is my first TF2 work outside of roleplay, but I hope to certainly do more. Any feedback is appreciated, I just wanted this to be a lighthearted short fic (though I guess I went on for longer than I intended to lol).  
> I used a prompt by fanficy-prompts @ Tumblr but changed it up a little to fit the context.
> 
> I also wish to explicitly thank my friend @teruukin on here for inspiring me to write again! You should read his work "Burn It Down" about Pyro, it's delightful.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you're all doing well and safe :)

It all started when Jeremy got a hole in the underarm of one of his favorite shirts. When he noticed it one evening, he moaned in disappointment. It was just a simple red and white striped t-shirt, he could probably find one like it someday, but he'd been wearing it for _years_ now. Maybe he liked it because his mom told him it was real nice when he got it, or maybe because it was just so damn comfortable. Now, it had a hole, and knowing him, it would grow twice that size, and before long, he'd have to throw it away. It was just a pain in the ass. 

Reluctantly, he dragged himself down the halls of the base and cautiously knocked on the engineer's lab door. When he didn't get a response, he opened it slightly before regretting that decision.

"Engie..? What the hell--" Jeremy started before he was cut off by the loud noise and flash of a teleporter going off and some distinct, growly muttering from Soldier. Peering in with wide eyes, he saw Engineer loathingly holding his forehead as what appeared to be a pile of cereal boxes grew out of the teleporter exit.

"Hi there, this may not be the best time--" Dell began in a mellow voice, turning to the door with a tired smile, before he too was cut short.

"Scout! I lost the cereal," Soldier exclaimed.

"No, you lost a _grenade._ We _found_ plenty of cereal."

"Scout! I found the cereal," he corrected himself, shining a big grin. Dell was less enthused. Jeremy just stared between the two of them and tried to say something before just closing the door a crack.

"I, uh, think I'll leave you two to that then, bye," he said, squinting and quickly shutting the door completely. He slumped his back against it and tried to drown out the ensuing noise.

He had only assumed Engie knew how to sew. He said he liked to fix problems, right? Jeremy considered he had enough problems on his hands at the moment. What do you mean "lost a grenade"--? Eh, too late to ask questions, better move on before it became a bomb shelter. Now, who else could sew?

It wasn't really a skill he would think any of them _would_ share. It felt kind of girly, at least it was something he could only ever remember his mom knowing how to do. When he scraped his jean's knees and snagged his shirts on branches, Ma could always fix it, or at least get him something new if it didn't matter so much. Between him and his handful of brothers, they had to share the spending real thin, so it wasn't like he got new things too often. She _had_ to fix his clothes, or he'd be running around naked eventually. She often told him it was a valuable skill and someday he'd need to do it, but he always shrugged it off as something only old hens did. Now he felt dumb. He silently thanked her for trying.

Okay, who else? Medic could, same thing as skin stitches, right? … Maybe not. Spy was too much of a snob to do it himself, he got everything fancy tailored, lucky. And not that he'd be too into helping him out again. It felt like all his favors were exhausted. He sighed and looked down at the soft shirt crumpled in his hands. Perhaps it was time to say goodbye. Was he afraid of letting it go..?

He stopped and snapped up straight when he finally noticed footsteps in his ears and looked up, seeing Sniper just a couple feet away. He was extremely relieved it was just him, but damn did he not hear him coming. The other man was probably too distracted to notice him practically grieving over an article of clothing on the other side of Engie's lab. Hopefully.

"Phew. Hey, Snipes," he spoke up, unconsciously rubbing the back of his ear and looking away. Unbeknownst for a while, he realized he really looked forward to seeing the sniper around base. Well, he wasn't too hard to find during off time. He was usually asleep in the common room, but if he wasn't, he was off doing God knows what. Jeremy realized he didn't really get to see him that often, since they were usually on opposite sides of the field. He kind of missed it, and it felt really weird to think about him like that, but he was just so docile in comparison to the loud mouths that usually sparked conversation.

He looked up, having caught his attention, and gave him a small smile. "Hello. Engineer locked you out again or somethin'?" he casually responded, holding his glasses in his hands in front of him. The scout looked behind him at the immediate metal door and acted like he didn't know he was there, embarrassed just a little.

"Oh, uh, yeah, woops. Some kinda crazy crap happenin' in there, you don't wanna know," he persuaded with a chuckle, leaning against the door frame and hiding the shirt behind his back with the other arm. "Anyway, you totally shouldn't sneak up on me like that, or like, I'll punch you, or something. That's not a threat, I-I'm just saying. You've seen me do karate before, right? Not saying it'll hurt but it totally will. So, uh, don't…"

He thought he saw Sniper give half an eye roll at the karate comment before he trailed off amidst his own rambling and his eyes slowly fixed on a very tiny detail, one he didn't think he was seeing quite right at first. On the bottom of his shirt was a slightly off center hem in a slightly different shade of green. It wasn't like Jeremy to just point out little things like that, but it stuck out very suddenly when he was just thinking about sewing. 

"Hey, sorry, random side note, where'd you get your shirt fixed?" he stopped himself mid-sentence, pointing at the shirt's edge. The other man stopped half-listening and looked down at himself, grabbing the hem, unknowingly showing a bit of skin but not caring regardless.

"Oh, fixed it meself. Nothin' fancy. I dunno about local tailors out here," he explained and shrugged. Scout couldn't contain his excitement.

"You can do that!? Can you fix something for me?" he leaped forward, bringing the shirt back to sight. He cleared his throat and leaned back a moment, trying not to jump him after he seemed startled by that response. "I mean, please?" The sniper blinked at him, then looked off at a wall, internally tossing the request over before finally replying.

"Ah, why not." He gestured with his fingers, striding off towards the stairs, leaving a wide-smiled Scout to follow.

⚹-⚹-⚹

Sniper had led him for a short walk to his van past the closed-off garage. Scout, up until this point, hadn't been in his van terribly often. There were times when rides needed to be shared, so he got to share the front seat with him, but he couldn't remember if he'd ever been in the back where (presumably) the older man presided. Scout also knew that if he _was_ presiding there, no one was allowed to bother him, ever. Unless someone was dying or the briefcase was stolen, the sniper's van was off limits to pestering. He kindly obeyed that, trying to ask questions and favors of anyone else that chose to sleep in the quarters that weren't Spy or Pyro.

Speaking of which, last he checked the Aussie had his own room, too. Did he actually sleep there and just spend time here? Or was he always parked somewhere far off? Jeremy could reflect on times when he felt like he hadn't seen the marksman for at least a week at a time. Sometimes he wanted to ask but he usually stopped himself if he looked agitated enough already. He was probably allotted freedom to drive wherever he wanted, at least it seemed that way, where else did he go? He couldn't imagine staying in one cramped spot for too long. They were very different in that regard.

Jeremy tottered between his legs impatiently as Snipes shuffled his keys to unlock the back van door. "Sorry to drag ya out here, I don't really keep anything down in the base," he spoke up, twisting the right key in. Guess that answered some of the questions. He stepped up on the small ledge under the door as it opened, looking back to Jeremy and making a big motion with his arm to come inside. He ran up after he entered, giddy like a kid to finally see what it was like inside.

A light was flicked on and the Scout felt a strange sense of warmth. Maybe just because he had been walking in the drafty halls for a while before now, but the inside just felt _cozy._ It wasn't overly saturated-- a few things stood out like a green mug that sat on a table and a familiar red shirt stuffed half-way in a drawer. He looked up to the far end where there was a sort of bunk bed with a colorful blanket hanging somewhat off it. It did feel a bit cluttered and probably too little space for his own tastes, but it was still very homely. In fact, it was a home, with a kind-of kitchen and sink and place to sit. Even if it wasn't really his cup of tea, he could start to see why Sniper liked to live with it.

While Jeremy observed his new surroundings, the sniper didn't waste any time kneeling under one of the seats to grab a small, faded plastic box with some assorted threads and needles. It was obvious which colors were used more; red and black almost empty and he wasn't sure how much he was willing to spend on replacing just the two colors. He slid onto the bench, adjusted his glasses, and waited for the younger to snap out of his daydreaming and sit across from him. 

"What can I do you for?" he asked, hands crossed in front of his face as he watched Scout carefully push an ashtray aside and set his shirt on the table.

"There's this stupid little hole here-" Jeremy held the cloth up under the light to show where it was, "-it's not real big now but I just know it'll keep goin' if I don't do somethin' about it. Or, _you_ do somethin' about it, I mean."

Sniper took it from his hands gently and rubbed his thumb over the split seam. "Yeah, I getcha. Too easy, it'll just take a minute…" He started threading a needle with as much focus as he could, rough hands seemingly swallowing the small utensil whole. When he looped the white string through, he glanced up at Jeremy. "Didn't you ever learn how, though? Sewin's a pretty valuable skill."

Jeremy stopped dead in his thoughts and just stared at him. There was silence for an uncomfortable moment. Did he just..?

"Uh, yeah, um... no," was all he could muster to respond with. Sniper blinked once and looked back down, focusing back on the project instead of pushing the conversation any further. Scout couldn't think of anything to say either but he tried to hide his flustered cheeks with his hands as he watched him attentively work.

⚹-⚹-⚹

Something about that interaction felt plain magical to Jeremy, despite how mundane it really was. It was just a friend asking a friend for a favor, right? It was the combination of seeing the inside of his van for the first time, and probably seeing _him_ for the first time in a couple days, and the fact he just said… what he said. In the end, the teeny hole was fixed up in a few minutes and he was sent back on his way, leaving the sniper to his own devices. But now every time he picked up the shirt from his drawers he ran his fingers over the fresh hem and wanted to go back. He just had no idea how to ask.

Well, only a couple weeks later, when he was going to grab a water bottle from the fridge, he tripped on a broken beer bottle in the commons at night. _Aw, fuck, Demo--_ It was one thing to be pissed just from the shame of falling over of something stupid (and frantically hoping no one was around to see), but when he got up and went back to his room he noticed a tear at the bottom of his sweatpants. _Great, just what I needed, another…_

Hole.

That's when the idea hit him. Maybe, just maybe, he could make an excuse to see Sniper more often if he had more clothes to fix. Was that weird? Ah, who cares. At first, he dreaded bothering him again over something so trivial, but it just made so much sense. He anxiously caught the other man in the garage the next day and apologized profusely for making another accident. The sniper innocently shrugged it off and offered to fix it for him again. He wouldn't know how often that occurrence would become.

Scout had been doing this for at least a couple months. Sometimes he'd get snagged on something on "accident", sometimes he'd look for clothes old enough that they were already torn, and recently he was just doing it deliberately. It became a bit of an obsession, if he was being honest with himself, but he didn't care. Every time he got to see Sniper, his questionable crush grew more into an overwhelming adoration.

While it happened somewhat often now, he could remember every time he went for a visit pretty well. Something was always a little bit new.

When he went with his torn sweats, he decided to make the visit less boring. He started talking to him about whatever was on his mind, and while it was somewhat one-sided (due to his rambling and the sniper's reclusiveness), it still felt fun and the time they spent was just a little longer. What used to take a few minutes turned into many more, even though the small holes weren't really that hard to fix.

By the third time he came, the van was noticeably cleaner. That green mug was put somewhere else, that red shirt was folded away too, and the blanket wasn't hanging out anymore. He didn't comment on it but it was interesting to see the change. The tight space felt just a little more open when it was organized like that. For the most part, it continued being that way throughout the visits, if not getting just a little more tidy every other time. Did it smell different, too? It used to smell mostly like cigarettes (not terribly uncommon for most of the mercenaries, Scout knew) and eventually it felt like… something fresh. Something intentional?

They also talked more and more every time, Sniper chiding in with his own conversations more too, and Jeremy was absolutely infatuated with them. It felt like he learned so much about the solitary man in a short while-- his decor was a mix of hunting bounty and postcards he had collected or his mom had sent him. He didn't really like to cook indoors and the stove was only good for boiling water. But the best thing he remembered was accidentally learning his first name when he really casually shared a tale about his mom and just let it slip. A lot of the mercs were on a last name basis at best, since most of the time they were more coworkers than friends. Sniper, in particular, never seemed to even want his first name used, _ever_. But he didn't even notice when he called himself Dick and Jeremy just silently shook his head along to the story telling. Still, he dared not repeat it. Just in case.

Now was about the sixth or seventh time. He was feeling a bit cocky when he "incidentally" got a hole in a pair of pants. Really, he cut it on purpose, unable to wait for another accident to take place. Also unwilling to be caught tripping over shit in the middle of the night, that was just sad. Trying to hide his excitement, he waltzed up to Sniper as he was reading a newspaper in the common room and looked away as he nervously asked for another fixing. He didn't see it, but Dick gave him a very blank gaze before saying nothing and walking towards the door. He delightedly tagged along.

Greeting the now familiar van with a quick glance across the vehicle to see if anything was new - the ashtray looked like it was cleaned recently - he hopped into the seat and waited for the other man to grab his little plastic box and start again. Letting him take his time to thread the needle before starting any conversation, he was cut off when Dick actually took the first word, sitting sideways and not looking at him.

"So… how'd this one happen?" Jeremy hadn't thought of a good excuse.

"Oh, uh, I got it caught on a… dead bush, outside, real annoying, am I right?" he explained smoothly with a grimace. Sniper only hummed in response. Suddenly it was weirdly quiet. By now they had better conversations. He hadn't started sewing, he was just glaring at the cut with a shaky hand. Scout uncomfortably stared at him for a couple moments before opening his mouth and getting cut off again.

"Jerm, do you take me for an idiot?"

"Uh… what?"

"D'ya think I'm stupid?" Jeremy stared at him, slowly shaking his head no while not being able to respond again. "Because that's not uncommon. I'm pretty sure most of ya do. But this is just a bit insultin', really."

He set down the pants and crossed his hands in front of his face like he did the first time, looking into the other man's eyes. The scout swallowed nervously, having absolutely no idea where this talk was going. Could he be joking..? Sniper never made many jokes.

"This isn't a tumbleweed snag, I've had enough of 'em to _know_ that. Cut's too clean. In fact, I don't think half yer excuses are true. Looks like scissors to me. And between me an' you, I think I know a little bit more about cuttin' and sewin' than you do, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be comin' outta the woodworks with a million things for me to fix and you'd just be doin' it your damn self.

So, I know, I know you're doing this on purpose. It was kinda obvious since the third time 'round, by the way. Yer too much of a spazz to keep it a secret well-- and you oughta work on that before takin' over a spy's mission." He closed his eyes with a chuckle. Jeremy confusedly smiled in response.

"I just wanna know why."

Scout felt himself getting flushed again and his feelings bit at his mind as the smile fizzled away. He felt like he had lied enough already, and if he did again, he would be going dangerously close to really offending him and closing the door forever. But was he ready to tell the truth? God, man, it's been a couple months of this stupid charade. He started off small.

"I um… I just wanted to talk to you more. Get to know you better. I guess."

Dick sighed and leaned forward, seemingly out of repose. "Mate, there's gotta be better ways to do that… I get that I'm kind of an isolate, but I'm not gonna bite ya or anything." He broke his gaze, twiddling his fingers.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't you, it was just stupid ol' me. I didn't wanna bother you."

"Thanks, I guess. I thought I made it a little clear I wasn't bothered by it, though."

"Oh… is that why you cleaned up?" Sniper nodded in response. He felt dumb for not seeing it sooner. "Shit."

"I wouldn' be here talkin' to you if I hated it. I kinda missed when you'd talk my ear off in the passenger side," he said, putting a smile back on and poking his thumb behind him at the front of the vehicle. 

"I missed being here, too. I think it's kinda cool in here, like, a secret little place. I just wanted an excuse to visit…"

"Now, I like my alone time, but it doesn't hurt to knock, does it?" 

Jeremy shook his head, humbled like a kid getting taught a lesson to. Dick got up and sat next to him on his side of the bench, putting his arm around his shoulders and looking him in the eye.

"It's okay, Jerm. I'll fix this one for ya. But you better stop wastin' my thread and just say 'hi' next time." Scout returned his smile, trying to pretend his cheeks weren't heating up as Sniper let go of his back to work on the cut in his trousers.

Unlike the times past, this visit was a little more awkward, but they sat next to each other and chatted and laughed about how Soldier was saying some preposterous crap the other day. He didn't consider that his desire to speak with the other man was requited, he really thought all this time he was just bugging him and being tolerated. It made sense now, though, after their conversations had gone from small talk to anecdotal. It wasn't like the two of them _never_ saw each other, he just lightly longed for those times earlier in the years when the two of them could just sit down and share a snack without getting interrupted. He wanted to make a point of doing it more often again.

After that, there was a little while when none of the mercenaries had much down time. Once they had settled again, though, Jeremy found himself knocking on the back door to the van one afternoon, instead of waiting to catch his attention around the base. It took a minute to get a response, but Dick greeted him and let him back inside. The smoke smell was back and he was wearing a white t-shirt that he looked like he slept in, cigarette in hand. Although he enjoyed seeing the effort to make the van more tidy, he felt that seeing it in it's more natural clutter was equally as inviting and comfortable. He held a little box behind his back.

"Sorry if I'm bugging you right now, I just wanted to bring you something," Jeremy spoke, twisting his foot behind him.

"No problem," Sniper preemptively shoved the ashtray on the table aside, turning back to look at him while leaning on the corner. "Whatcha got?"

He shoved the box towards him. It was a new, clean plastic container with some assorted thread spools rolling around inside. "Nothin' fancy, I just felt kinda bad for making you waste a bunch on me." His recipient accepted it, fondly smirking at the contents before setting it down and suddenly enveloping the scout in a soft hug. 

"Thanks, mate. Don't worry about it anymore; if you need somethin' actually worked on, it'd be my pleasure." Jeremy stared into nothing as he was squeezed, feeling himself go red as if that was habitual now in Dick's presence. He was let go promptly, scratching the back of his head as the marksman put on a jacket that was hanging over the back of the seat. 

"Wanna go hang somewhere else? I could use some fresh air."


End file.
